


an unwell emotion

by dust_motes



Category: Deus Ex (Video Games), Deus Ex: Mankind Divided
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Augmentations (Deus Ex), First Time, Getting Together, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:07:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29269227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dust_motes/pseuds/dust_motes
Summary: The London incident leaves Miller in unexpected circumstances. Adam wants to be there to help.
Relationships: Adam Jensen/Jim Miller
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 6





	an unwell emotion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spacehopper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacehopper/gifts).



> Happy Chocobox, Spacehopper! I had a blast writing for you and I hope you will like what I created ❤
> 
> The title snatched from Disco Elysium ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

The hospital's security system looked like it was designed in the early naughts by a stoned high-schooler—their last-ditch attempt to pass the class, maybe, or a drug-induced joke. It took Adam less than three minutes to access Miller's file and another five to write a scathing email to the director. 

Light from the streetlamps shone yellow and golden against the puddle at the end of the ambulance access road. Adam's cigarette glowed orange in the dark. In Miller's file, a recommendation in bold: AUGMENTATION POSSIBLY NEEDED.

Adam's own augs kept his body straight and unshaking. An EMT nodded as he was passing by and Adam nodded back, laughing when the man warned him against the dangers of bad, bad habits. The laugh sprouted painful thorns in his throat, but maybe it was the smoke or the dampness in the air Adam was unaccustomed to.

The man winked and Adam turned away.

*

Miller's nervous system was damaged, the file said. With the newness of Orchid, tests inconclusive, and Miller in the medically-induced coma, the doctors were, surely, confused and grasping for straws. _Augmentation recommended_. As if they knew what they were proposing. Adam scoffed.

He'd read the file thrice already. Hadn't understood much, but he kept trying, letters blurrier and blurrier in front of his artificial retinas until he had to stop and close his eyes. Miller's breathing was steady, possibly because it was a machine doing the job. Adam didn't want to look at him, but listening to the steady rhythm of the ventilator's pump beeps was kind of nice. Calming. Like his own heartbeat, never rising, never slowing down.

Maybe he was more used to the unnatural flatness of bodily functions than he'd thought he was.

The important thing: despite everything, Miller was alive. If he had to get augs, something to, Adam wasn't certain, keep his hands from shaking or a one-sided body paralysis from occurring, then it wasn't the end of the world. 

Beyond Prague and TF29, the world was vast and open and Miller wasn't the kind of man who'd let something inconsequential—like a small aug nobody could see anyway—keep him from doing whatever the hell he wanted to do. Adam couldn't imagine he'd want to stay in the job anyway. 

Footsteps on the corridor, approaching. Adam cloaked and hid in a corner before the nurse entered, talking into her earpiece. She'd checked on Miller before, so he felt quite confident she wasn't an Illuminati plant, but he took out his stun gun just in case. The weight of his finger on the trigger centered him; his body tensed and molded itself into a tool of destruction, ready to spring into action—a most intrinsic state of being.

Adam let out a long, steady breath. Miller was as safe as he could possibly be right now.

The nurse wrote something on her tablet (upon checking: condition stable, vitals stable, nothing out of the ordinary for Miller's circumstances. Adam breathed out a silent sigh of relief), then proceeded to fluff Miller's pillow. She had an augmented arm and Adam would like to think she was taking extra care of Miller as a token of appreciation for stopping the shit from really going down in the Apex, but realistically, she probably was just doing her job. Miller wouldn't like the special treatment anyway. 

When she left, Adam sat back down in the uncomfortable plastic chair, the only one in the room. He re-opened Miller's file. Tomorrow, his sister would probably fly in or maybe his estranged ex-husband with the kids. Maybe someone from Prague, someone Adam didn't know about. Today, Adam read and listened and thought, _You're alright, you're alright, you're alright_.

*

Neither the sister nor the ex-husband appeared the following day, but from the chatter on the hospital intranet, Adam learned of a case conference. 

Getting comfortable in the vent above the ceiling, Adam spared a thought or two about the inherent immorality of eavesdropping on a conversation about other people's health issues, but— Well. There weren't many things he wouldn't do for Miller. He just didn't want— The thought of Miller unconscious in that room— Someone should look after him. Adam might not be the best man for the job, but it seemed he was all Miller had.

Temporarily, Adam reminded himself firmly. Don't get too used to it. 

Miller had a lot of people who cared deeply about him. People who wouldn't do anything Miller himself wouldn't consent to. Adam was just… in the right place at the right time.

"Did you talk to the sister?" the female voice was saying below. The woman the voice belonged to was named Rose, Adam had learned.

"Yup. She was a mess, couldn't get a straight answer out of her for shit. It's bloody inconvenient the bloke is an Aussie."

Typing. Notification sound popping on someone's phone.

"Yes, well. Would be best if we could wake him up, but I'd rather not risk it. We still don't know what was in that poison. Or the antidote. Administered without medical supervision." A sigh. Adam felt his cheeks heating. "Anyway, even if we got greenlit, I'm not sure if we can reverse the damage to the optic nerve. The technology just isn't quite there yet and eyes are always tricky"

"Haven't you heard? Brown wants to pay for the expenses not covered by the insurance. He's got his own—"

There was no rushing of blood to his ears, no pulse picking up and up and up as the meaning hit Adam—and then hit him _again_ —but later he'd come to realize he didn't understand anything else out of this conversation despite the Sentinel stabilizing his heartbeat and stress level immediately after they spiked.

Miller had—good eyes. They'd served him well, yes, but above all else, they were kind. Adam liked their shape when Miller laughed. And when he worried, which, admittedly, happened much more often. The color suited him. Went well with his apparently endless collection of turtlenecks. Adam couldn't imagine Miller would be thrilled to have them swapped like one swaps a card in a weak hand in the game of poker.

Eyes still weren't the end of the world, Adam told himself firmly. If Miller wanted to— Which he would. Eyes for a sniper— But, his choice. His sister—Colleen, Adam remembered. She called Miller James which Adam found endearing—would tell them to wait. She had to. It didn't seem Miller's condition was worsening, at least. Small mercies.

Adam was slightly dizzy when he jumped down from the vent in a rarely used side corridor. He gave himself a moment to lean against the wall. He wanted a cig but didn't want to leave the hospital. Not before he checked up on Miller anyway.

Logically, Adam knew nothing had changed for Miller in the hour or so Adam had been gone from the room. What Adam had learned had been going behind the scenes from the beginning. The shift, the realigning of the reality, it only happened to Adam and stupidly so. It wasn't as if Miller needed his worries or good advice (what that would even be? Don't do it and lose your sight? Do it but trust no one? Do it and leave Prague? Wrapping his head around it felt like digging a bullet out of a wound; the finger's every movement sending fresh waves of pain. The pain was building up now as well) or anything from him. Adam just wanted to see him.

He pushed himself away from the wall and started walking. An easy enough task. One foot in front of the other, smile to the nurses, don't think, don't think, don't—

"Adam!" 

A shot. Or, well. Almost. Sarif's voice.

In the corridor leading to the admin wing, all in black except for the golden vest and accents on the shoes, in a farcically expensive suit, David Sarif waved to him and called out. "Adam. Son. So glad to see, I was supposed to be with Nathaniel at the convention, but… Well. Perhaps it's not the worst I missed _that_ , but I do regret not seeing you in action. Although I heard there hadn't been a need to use Typhoon, so… Pity how one never can have any fun."

Adam cringed. Or he thought he did. Maybe not, seeing as Sarif was strolling toward him with a wide smile and outstretched hand. Adam stood in the middle of the corridor like struck by a lightning. 

In a way, he had been. Sarif was a force of nature.

"Sarif," Adam forced out. He shook his hand, polymer silently touching polymer. Adam always felt it should make more noise. Clank.

"You visiting your boss? Didn't they tell you he was unresponsive? I should think you did enough with the antidote." Adam startled and Sarif laughed. "Not official knowledge, don't worry. But seriously, who else could it be?" Adam said nothing. If Sarif noticed, he didn't care. "I was supposed to have a meeting, but it got canceled last minute." Sarif talked so fast Adam had trouble keeping up. "Oh. What a lucky coincidence. We should totally go get lunch. I know a place with amazing steaks, they are usually booked weeks in advance but for me…"

"I'm checking up on Miller," Adam started, but Sarif waved his hands.

"I told you, he's in a coma. Won't know you came by. Come on, let's get steaks." A no on the tip of Adam's tongue, fully formed. Should be so easy to let it fall from his lips, but Adam hesitated for a second. Enough for Sarif to add: "I've got something to tell you anyway, might as well do it in person."

*

The steakhouse was _fancy_ fancy. Adam didn't feel out of place only because he'd expected nothing different. He'd been in enough restaurants and hotels with Sarif to know his... fanciness threshold. 

Then again, it had been before augs.

If the waitstaff minded Adam's presence, they never let it show. Everybody was impeccably polite.

Sarif ordered for both of them and started playing with his wine glass, twirling the stem between his forefinger and thumb. Adam fought down the urge to reach across the table and put it away. "You wanted to talk. What about?"

Sarif shrugged as if Adam committed a great faux pas. "Just a new project. Later." He took a sip of his wine. "Truth be told, I shouldn't be talking about it yet, not out loud. Very exciting, though. You're always my first choice when it comes to sharing these things, Adam."

Adam snorted, sipping his soda. "I'm glad to see you're doing alright."

"I wouldn't… Alright is a stretch. After SI, working for other people just isn't the same. Still. I get by." Sarif smiled. "You did great in the Apex, you know that, right? Your boss can't tell you that now—does he, usually? Nevermind—so I am. And Nathaniel, he's so very grateful."

So alike Sarif to make stopping a terrorist attack all about himself. Adam ground his teeth. "I didn't do it for you. Or Brown."

Sarif patted his hand laying on the table. "Of course. Still. TF29's… effectiveness hasn't been at its peak lately, has it now. Congratulations are in order."

Adam didn't have an answer for that, not one he wanted to give Sarif anyway. "I'll pass it on to the team.

"The team!" Sarif laughed. "Always so humble. Adam, you really need—"

To be back at the hospital, Adam thought, not angry per se, but with an edge to it. And a hint of sadness. 

_That_ made him angry, but the waitress appeared before he could snap at Sarif. He started to chew as soon as she put his plate down. The steak tasted of paper and cigarettes. He'd had two on his way here and couldn't wait to have another one, without Sarif's company this time. He swallowed. "Did you really want to talk about the attack and the HRA?"

Sarif sighed. "Straight to business. You should try enjoying yourself more, Adam. The beef here, it comes from cows they breed on…" Adam tuned him out. He tried focusing on the taste, he liked steak after all.

Apparently not right now.

He smiled at Sarif when Sarif ended his lecture and took a big gulp of soda. "Look, I—" _I want to get back to my unconscious boss_ sounded really bad when spoken to a former superior. Adam shut his mouth.

"You hate this place, don't you? I know, I know, something more… mundane would be a better fit, perhaps. I figured you deserved a treat."

"And you wanted to talk," Adam reminded him patiently. He lost hope it was anything important but the sooner Sarif got it off his chest, the sooner he would get back to Nathaniel Brown and his pet projects and far away from Adam.

"That I did. You seemed reluctant at the beginning, and I didn't want to impose. Are you worried about Miller? You're too kind to your bosses, I've always said that.

"What does it have to do with—" Adam started and stopped, fingers on the glass twitching. He almost shattered it, more and more on edge with every ragged breath he took.

An illusion, of course. Sentinel took care of his breathing, as it did of everything else.

Sarif laughed. "You know what's going on, don't you? You couldn't help but check. You're nosy, Adam. You like knowing things, especially things about people, things that are none of your business. So yes, he's deep in shit and needs help. My help."

 _No_ , Adam wanted to hiss, but his lips didn't move. Sarif continued unperturbed as if he just hadn't ended Adam's world for the second time. "Do you know his sister? The one who has the POA? She really should agree ASAP. We don't know how Orchid works, the damage may be spreading as we speak."

"I'm not contacting Miller's sister for you, Sarif. I'm not—" How couldn't he even finish this sentence? I'm not helping you mutilate my boss seemed emotional and emotional was the last thing Adam could afford to be in front of Sarif. "Just no."

"You're always so overdramatic. I'm not saying you should try to convince her or anything, though it would be appreciated." Sarif raised his arms. "But say nothing you aren't comfortable with. I just wanted to know…"

"I don't know her," Adam cut in, sharp. He put away the cutlery, his half-eaten steak nothing more than a pool of blood on his plate. "I don't even know of her. Not officially. Miller has never mentioned her." He stood up.

Sarif rolled his eyes. "Okay, okay, you didn't know of her. Now you do. Sit. Don't you like your steak? I seem to remember you always have yours raw."

Never again would Adam eat beef, fancy or otherwise.

"Infolink call. I still have superiors, you know, even if Miller is in the hospital. I gotta go."

"Pity." Sarif put a napkin to his lips. He didn't believe Adam, Adam was fairly certain of it. "But if the duty calls. Let me know, okay? When you know something about… our friend's predicament."

Of all the things he could think, _Jim Miller is not your friend_ came to his mind first. Miller was way too good of a man to— "I'll be sure to call," he said and fled, both Sarif and a sudden, choking realization that clawed its way in and lodged deep in Adam's cortex.

Adam didn't want Jim Miller to be his friend either. 

At least, not only a friend.

*

Funnily enough, the call came later that day, and with it a new case and Prague and more of unblissfull ignorance.

*

Miller was supposed to be back at work at the beginning of summer. Good coincidence that as well. Rumor had it he'd need his sunglasses. 

"Fucking pitiful," Mac said one day, about a week before the scheduled. He wasn't talking to Adam, but Adam was making coffee nearby. Couldn't help but overhear. "To take a good man and—" He shook his head. "Well, at least he'll be back, but it's a fucking pity," he repeated.

Adam left.

*

Miller's new eyes looked fine. People who didn't know him might not notice— Scratch that. Adam was lying to himself. It was very evident Miller's eyes weren't natural. Top of the notch quality, but the shine was always slightly off with augs and light reflected a bit differently against protheses. "Boss. Welcome back," he said. Not a formal greeting; they met by the coffee maker, the same Mac had been talking shit close by a week prior. 

Miller smiled. "I bet Mac didn't care as much for the typos in your reports as I do. Didn't it make your life easier?"

Not a jab. An opening, maybe. Hopefully. "You know me. Paperwork is not what really worries me in this job."

"Yeah, about that—"

Adam shook his head. "No. You don't have to. You know you don't."

Miller sighed. "Still. Thank you."

Adam nodded and really took him in for the first since morning when they'd gathered for a semi-formal meeting for the counterterrorism team. Miller had lost some weight but otherwise held himself as tall and put together as he always had. His hair was cropped at the sides and back of his head and slightly longer on top. His oxfords shone. His suit, while not as outlandish as Sarif's, fit him perfectly.

Suits always looked great on Miller.

Adam blinked and focused on Miller's face. "Happy to be back?"

"Mostly happy I was able to return. But yeah. Even with physiotherapy, I was getting fucking bored. Antsy. And I can't believe I'm saying that, but Australia was too hot for me," Miller laughed.

Adam didn't know how to ask about him being back in Prague. Back in Prague as an aug. There wasn't a polite way to state _You got downgraded to a second class citizen. Doing fine?_ Besides, it wasn't his place. He cared anyway. Had wondered, more than once, how life would be for Miller now. His documents would be fine, of course. He knew how to deal with cops riding his ass. His landlords… Would he have to find a new place? Interpol was paying for the current one, hard to imagine them renting something in Překážka. Adam bit his lip. "I'm glad to have you back."

Too honest. Too much. But only if one knew that— Innocent enough when spoken out in the open of the main floor, people bustling about, nodding at Miller, passing them by. Aria was smiling at them from across the room.

Miller put his hand on Adam's shoulder and squeezed. "I'm glad, too."

To be working again. Maybe even to be working again with you. That was what he'd meant. One corner of Adam's mouth twitched. "Just don't get poisoned again. You drank all of the good stuff I had last time."

They hadn't talked about the antidote and how Adam had gotten it. His report was vague and Mac hadn't pressed, maybe because he'd been told not to. Miller, though— Sooner or later Miller would ask and Adam would lie. Their relationship in a nutshell.

Miller laughed. "Not planning on pulling that one again, no."

The coffee maker pinged, Miller's coffee ready, steaming and smelling slightly burnt. "Sugar?" Adam asked, holding out a packet from the nearby stack. 

Their fingertips touched when Miller took it from him and put it back. "No milk, no sugar. I'm a boring-ass dude."

Despite himself, Adam smiled and the words slipped before he was able to stop himself. "Try masochist. The perfect ratio of coffee to milk is one to one. I could—" No. Stop. Don't exaggerate. Better to keep the banter banter-y, not flirty.

Miller took his mug. "I'll stick to black, but…" He shook his head and looked at his watch. "I have to get back. Try to not overdose on sugar while writing the overdue reports that will get to me before you clock out today, okay?"

Reports. Yeah. Totally.

*

Miller called the following Wednesday when Adam was killing time, working on a thousand pieces puzzle on his HUD while Mac drowned on and on about something or other wrong Adam had done. Adam immediately got up. "Sorry, the better boss wants to see me."

Mac, forced to stop mid-word, looked pissed and dejected at the same time. "Fuck's sake! I'm nowhere near done."

Adam, already at the door, turned with a smirk. "I'll make sure to inform him about your not-doneness." 

Mac flipped him off. "And he's not better, just—" The hiss of the closing door cut him off, mid-sentence this time. Still, it was a progress of a kind. Mac shouldn't complain.

*

On his way to Miller's office, Adam swung by the cafeteria to make an americano. He didn't put any sugar in it. 

*

"It's disgusting, isn't it?" he asked, watching Miller's expression after the first sip. "I tried."

Miller laughed. "No, no. It's alright. Thank you. You just surprised me, is all. Even my damn assistant doesn't have time to make me a coffee with how things are in this place." He narrowed his eyes at Adam. "I didn't drag you away from writing reports, did I? 

"Nope." Adam didn't elaborate. It earned him a sigh.

"It's nothing time-sensitive. Nothing work-related, really. It can wait if you're busy."

Adam shook his head. "No. Nothing important going on right now. I'm waiting on info in the Havlíček case and the other stuff is at the dead end. I've got time."

Miller looked at him for a bit longer than it would be considered polite. Adam forced himself not to turn his eyes downward. In the shitty light of the office, Miller's eyes gleamed silver and cold and as much unlike him as they could be while still being, well. Very Miller's.

Suddenly, Adam had to ask. "How are you doing? With the augs, I mean."

Miller smiled. "I don't take the metro that often," he said softly as if placating a child. Adam should feel ashamed or at least like the topic was closed, but—

"Switching the focal point is an effective evasion tacting, I would know. But seriously. How are you?"

Miller shrugged. "Good. As good as I can get, I supposed. Why? Are you worried?"

Yes. Yes, he was. Worried and sad and outraged at the injustice. Miller was one of the best, most honest men. He hadn't deserved what had hapoened and in the aftermath, he didn't deserve what Prague would throw at him. Or already had. Adam didn't know his life, even if he'd like to believe the opposite. "I just know. How it is here. You don't have to pretend."

"I'm not." Miller sighed. "But as it happens, it's somewhat related to what I want to talk about." And before Adam could ask, he stapled his fingertips together. "I'm moving. Not sure where yet, but I'm thinking Překážka. Just a heads-up your boss might be living a few blocks away from you. Seemed only polite. I'm sure you can't be thrilled about this development, but—"

"They're forcing you out," Adam cut in, angry. Restless energy in his legs made him get up and pace. "From your flat. You could—" Adam didn't know what. The law was against Miller here, and always would be from now on. "I could— I know lawyers—"

Miller's head was turning, his eyes always on Adam. He smiled a sad smile. "You worry about me too much. They aren't. In fact, they offered to make an exception when I went to disclose my new status and—" A shrug. "—I don't want that. I'm moving because I want to, I'm just sorry if it causes you any inconvenience. I could—"

"No. No inconvenience. It doesn't bother me that we might become neighbors." Quite the opposite, in fact. "I just wish you didn't have to. And don't say it's your choice. It's not that simple and you know it.

Being an aug in Prague was the farthest thing from simple Adam could imagine. 

Miller was looking at him intently and Adam took a step toward him, then thought better of it. "Jim. Please. At least let me help."

He expected a scoff or to be asked to fuck kindly off. Miller had a way of telling people to make themselves scarce in a creative manner and he was used to being listened to. He wasn't talking now, though, just looking. Looking at Adam with piercing eyes and a slight frown on his forehead and his scar invisible in the dark, but very much there like all the other things between them. 

Finally, he sighed. "It's not that I don't appreciate the offer, Adam. I do. But I'm going to hire somebody to take care of things for me. I'm sure it'll be fine. If it doesn't bother you that we'll be close—we'll be living close-by, I mean—then it's the biggest worry off my chest."

It shouldn't be his biggest worry. It just shouldn't. "Jim…"

Miller got up and took the step Adam had been too afraid to take. Then another one and another, until they stood almost chest to chest and Adam could smell coffee on Miller's breath. It was dizzying and he even didn't like coffee that much. "Adam, I promise you I will be alright. 

Adam swallowed. "Promise me you will come to me if you aren't? If something falls through or anyone gives you any trouble?"

Ridiculous. And obvious. Kudos to Miller for keeping a straight face in front of Adam's idiotic crush. That he didn't mention anything was a small kindness that Adam had come to expect of Miller. It was oddly nice that for once his trust wasn't misplaced.

Miller smiled. "I will. I will let you know if shit hits the fan."

Not exactly the promise Adam had been asking for but not nothing. A lot, in fact. More than Miller should be giving him. Adam smiled back, only a little bit forced. "Fine. I'll hold you to that."

*

Miller told him the address after a meeting. It was just around the corner from Adam's flat. "It's a nice neighborhood. Very sunny with all the holes in the walls."

"Gonna take my chances. I heard the people living near-by are the best of the best. A nice change from my current place."

Adam smiled. "There's a great pub two streets over. Best beer in Prague." Miller's raised brow made him amend. "Okay, in Překážka. Still more than what I was used to in the States."

In Miller's current place, rows and rows of bottles of wine. A beer place might not be the best choice for the first date if it were one.

"Show me one day? After I settle. I'm packing books right now."

Adam nodded. He wanted to offer his help with the books as well, but too much was too much.

*

Unsurprisingly, they'd never made it to the bar. Life became hectic and then even more hectic, as per usual in their line of work. Adam didn't have the guts to ask again.

Sometimes, they met on the morning train. Miller fit in the 'for augs' car far better than Adam had predicted and he was starting to think Miller was just one of _those_ guys. Those who fit everywhere without much trouble. A useful skill for a law-enforcement guy.

They rarely talked, nothing more than pleasantries and obligatory statements about the cold and the upcoming winter, but they stood together and walked together through the door.

The fifth time, Adam stopped at the corner. "I'll go get donuts."

Miller's eyebrows shoot up. "Donuts, Adam? Really? Feeling cliche or is nostalgia eating you up from inside?"

Nostalgia. As if. 

"Don't play dumb. People will talk."

They already were. Not about Miller and Adam, but about augs. The downgrade that was Překážka. Even that Miller had stopped coming to work at six if he didn't have to was good enough reason to gossip. ( _He's fucking other Augs. And you know what? Good for him. He should live a little before they transfer him_ was one of the worst Adam had heard but the rest weren't splendid either.) Stupid to give them more ammunition.

Miller tilted his head as if deep in thought considering Adam's objection. The aviators he had on suited him extremely well. It was the third pair Adam had noticed and wasn't surprised Miller was going for this style time and time again. They did look fucking amazing on him.

"Okay," Miller said, shrugging dismissively. "I don't care."

*

The notice popped up in his email at noon on the dot, clearly scheduled. The director's planned vacation time, blah blah blah, during his absence all teams should respond to, blah blah blah. Nothing particularly strange during the Christmas season except the length. Three months.

Adam slipped away from his desk and knocked on Miller's door. "You alright?" They had this kind of relationship where he could ask now.

Miller frowned. "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"The email?"

For a second, Miller looked genuinely confused, then his expression cleared. "Oh. That. Yeah, it's fine. I just have personal matters to attend to in Sydney." Cold. Flat. Impersonal.

Adam bet he knew what that was all about. He nodded and carefully said nothing that could reveal the expanse of his knowledge. "Oh. Sure. Makes sense. Sorry I barged in." A step toward the door. Another. He felt—not embarrassed, exactly. Silly was a better descriptor. Not great for a man in his late thirties.

He almost reached the door when he heard Miller standing up. "Adam. Wait." Adam turned. "I should be sorry, not you. It was kind of you to ask."

Adam shook his head slightly. "Don't mention it. You have the right to tell people to fuck off when they get too much in your shit."

Miller bit his lip. "You're not most people. I'm flying to Sydney because my daughter is scheduled for a spine aug just after New Year. I want to spend time with her.

"I'm sorry," Adam replied automatically. Too fast, maybe, but not suspiciously so; he imagined most people wouldn't know what to say when presented with this kind of information. "It must be difficult."

"It's what it is." Miller shrugged. "I've made my peace with it." An obvious lie, but Adam wasn't going to call him out on it. "She'll be alright. Neil—my ex—and I, we have means to get her good care. I don't worry much." He so obviously did.

"It's great. Truly. She'll need you both. And you already know how it is. She'll be okay. You both will."

A tired smile. "Yeah. We will."

An empty promise. Another thing Adam was not going to call either of them on.

"Say, about that beer. When you get back?"

Finally, Miller laughed.

*

The conversation sat heavy in his stomach for a few days; it was the first thing he thought about in the morning and the last at night. On Friday Adam had enough. He took out neuropozyne his thoughts had kept circling back to and headed to Miller's.

Even with everything he'd given away, he'd accumulated too many vials. Too much stuff he'd never need while Miller could make good use of it. Adam was ashamed he hadn't considered it earlier.

Miller greeted him in a T-shirt and low hanging joggers. His feet were endearingly bare. "Adam." He didn't sound surprised.

"Sorry. I'm barging in again." Adam thrust the box into Miller's hands. The vials clanked. "Just—take this and I'll be out of your hairs." 

Admittedly, not his best explanation. He really didn't want to talk about why he didn't need all this nu-poz, but he suspected they were going to have it anyway. He fidgeted at the entrance, looking around.

The flat was as bright as the previous one. Lots of white. The ugly couch had apparently disappeared—Adam was ridiculously grateful for this turn of events. Books were scattered about. The coffee machine seemed bigger here, easily the biggest damn thing in the whole flat. Adam knew it only seemed so because the place itself was smaller; he found it fucking hilarious anyway. 

Or as hilarious as he could find anything with Miller opening the box in front of his eyes and staring disbelievingly at the content. "Adam, I—"

"For your daughter," Adam added quickly. "Please. I don't need it."

"How can you fucking not need that much nu-poz. It's… People would kill for it. And you're trying to just, what. Gift it to me?"

Adam wasn't surprised by the disbelief. He got it. He really did. Still. "It doesn't come with any strings," he said softly, looking at the floor. "I just want you to have it. Use it. It's going to expire at my place."

The open box left on the table looked like a parody of a Christmas present. Adam swallowed. Miller took a step toward him. "I'm getting nu-poz from TF29, just as you do. My daughter will as well, she's covered under my insurance. We don't really need it either." Another step. "You should not be giving it away."

Adam shook his head. "I won't use it up. I'll explain. Later. When you get back? I can put it back in my safe, just know it's there and it's yours. I want you to have it."

Not many things he wanted more. Miller looking at him with soft wonder in his eyes might be one of them. "You are something else, Adam"

Adam snorted. Miller couldn't know just how well he put it. "I guess." He sighed. "I'm sorry. Can't imagine how surprised you are. I should've planned it better. Just promise me you'll sleep on it and I'll be gone." He passed Miller to retrieve the box. "I'm sorry," he repeated. 

Miller stopped him with a hand on his stomach, rough and cold. Adam shivered. "You are freezing," he stated like a moron, looking at Miller's hand. 

"I'm almost always cold. It's not important. What's important is—"

Adam took Miller's hand in both of his. Fucking cradled it and rubbed gentle circles into Miller's palm with his thumb. Countdown to when Miller would wrestle his hand away from Adam: three, two, one. "You are important," Adam said before Miller could. "Your daughter is. Everything else…" He shrugged. 

Miller raggedly laughed. "I really should throw you out." He didn't move.

"You should."

"I don't think I'm going to."

An opening. A parting of dark clouds to a sunnier sky. "This is the best surprise." Adam smiled and drew Miller in.

He kissed his eyelids first. Then his brows and temple and soft skin under the eye, and when Miller didn't protest, his mouth. They both shook and sighed into a kiss at the exact same time; a much better promise than the last one Miller had given him.

Adam's coat landed on the floor with a thud. Under Miller's T-shirt, his stomach was cold, but slowly warming up. Adam crowded him in against a cracked kitchen wall, stopping him when Miller tried to fall to his knees. "I like you just where I have you," he murmured against his lips. 

They touched. Miller's hand wasn't cold at all on Adam's dick; it was sure and steady and so good Adam came in three minutes. He let Miller hold and kiss him through it, feeling him smiling against his skin, and it was easy enough to touch Miller's back, easier than he'd thought it would be when he'd been thinking about it. (Not too often, but often enough to be surprised that it wasn't awkward like in his daydreams.)

Miller came with a quiet shout, buried in Adam's neck, bitten into his skin, licked into his augs. Adam stroked his back. "Tell me we are going to do it again."

He'd aimed for an 'it was fucking great' again rather than an 'I love you. Stay.' He was fairly certain he missed, but it was hard to care when Miller kept smiling and kept Adam close. 

"Mhm. Now? Or when I get back?"

And oh, oh, a fear Adam had been unaware of. "You are coming back for sure, yeah?" he whispered into Miller's hair, half-hoping Miller could pretend he hadn't heard him.

"I am," Miller said. "Will you wait?"

Like for spring, Adam thought and kissed him again.


End file.
